


Hold on Tight

by flashytonystark



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adult Peter Parker, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Avengers team - Freeform, Comic Book Science, Cotton Candy Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gwen Stacy Lives, Peter Parker is an Avenger, Protective Gwen Stacy, Protectiveness, Science, Science Experiments, Sick Character, Sickfic, Stubborn Peter Parker, Sweet, Villains, gwen/peter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9263807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashytonystark/pseuds/flashytonystark
Summary: For 22 year old Peter Parker, life is great. Since receiving his trust at the age of 21 left to him by his father, Peter has started up his own company, Parker Industries and driven its successes through the roof.His girlfriend, Gwen, is pretty amazing too. The only problem Peter is having is convincing her to move in with him.Other than that small little problem, Peter feels like his life is going pretty great—that is, until the day he falls during a training exercise at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. Things aren't right after that, and Peter's determined to find out why. Obsessed with discovering the answers to all of his unanswered questions, Peter finds it difficult to separate his superhero life from his personal life and if he's not careful, he might lose the ones he loves the most in the process.[[CURRENTLY ON HIATUS]]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violawrites/gifts).



Gwen’s phone has been buzzing in her lab coat pocket more times than she can count now. She’s almost done charting the newly presented changes in the group of rats she’s in charge of, when her phone buzzes again.

She sighs, pulls off her gloves, and retrieves her phone. There are two missed calls, one from her mother and one from Tony Stark, along with seven unread text messages, all of which come from Peter. She considers putting her phone back—the phone calls can wait, and surely, Peter can too, she thinks, when her phone buzzes again in her hand. It’s Peter.

Knowing the interruptions won’t stop until she’s read and replied to Peter, Gwen unlocks her phone with a quick scan of her thumbprint, and opens her messages. They’re full of overdramatic uses of emojis, and from what she’s able to gather from Peter’s broken text messages, he needs her at home as soon as possible. It’s not quite a 9-1-1 text, but it’s borderline.

_I’m almost done in the lab, just need to finish charting.  
_ _Are you at your place?_

She presses send and within moments, another text from Peter has arrived.

**Text Message from: Peter [red heart, blue heart, spider emoji]  
** **2:23PM**

_yes, and ignore that phone call from tony, ok?_

Gwen replies with a thumbs up emoji and places her phone back into her pocket before she pulls a new set of gloves from the box on the wall. She examines the remaining three mice in her group, documents the necessary findings and changings in all three rodents, and places them back into respective places.

Once she’s cleaned up, she drops the files and paperwork off at the front desk to be delivered to her boss and sends Peter another text to let him know she’s on her way.

She’s lucky when she gets there because a parking spot in front of Peter’s apartment building has opened up and she quickly parks. She’s constantly complaining about the lack of parking at an apartment complex so large and she doesn’t even live there. Not that Peter hasn’t tried convincing her to move in with him at least once a week.

He thinks it’s stupid that she won’t just break down and move in. Half of her clothes are practically shoved into his dresser drawers and closet already and she even has a spare toothbrush and her favorite kind of toothpaste hanging out in his bathroom. She says it’s not necessary for them to live together—even though they have been dating for almost three years—and consistently tells Peter no.

Peter thinks Gwen’s afraid of taking that next step. Gwen thinks Peter just needs to _stop_ thinking.

When she finally reaches his apartment—number 121—she doesn’t even bother knocking and steps inside. She throws her bag and keys on a nearby end table and looks around for Peter who is nowhere to be found.

“Peter?” she calls, though no one answers.

 _Is he seriously sleeping?_ she wonders as she pushes open his bedroom door.

At first Gwen thinks he has his headphones in because Peter is slumped over on his desk, his cheek resting on top of a bunch of papers, and he’s half dressed in his Spidey suit. His mask is up just enough to reveal the bottom half of his face and he’s breathing through his mouth instead of his nose. His pants and boots are still on, but his shirt remains in a heap at his feet.

“Peter,” she says again, clapping her hands once to pull him from his half-asleep state. “You okay?” she asks as he lifts his head, and is forced to stifle a laugh as a piece of paper he was laying on comes up with him, still attached to his cheek.

“Gwen, oh thank god you’re here,” he says, swatting at the paper on his face. “My car’s still in the shop and I have a thing to get to at the Tower. Can you take me?”

He’s still breathing through his mouth as he speaks and he sounds horribly congested. Gwen raises a brow and remembers the missed call from Tony on her phone and Peter’s insistence that she ignore it. Now she’s wondering if she should’ve called him back any way. She crosses the floor in a few strides, places her hands on either side of Peter’s face, and tilts it upward. His cheeks are hot in her hands and she gives him a disapproving look.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” she asks, easing the rest of his mask up and over his nose and eyes. His hair sticks out worse than it normally does and the dark circles under his eyes tell Gwen before Peter does.

“Jus’ a few days,” he mumbles, leaning forward to wrap his arms around her middle and press his cheek to her stomach. “’m fine, Gwen. Jus’ drive me to the Tower, m’kay?”

Gwen’s mind is already made up as she rolls her eyes, not that Peter can see, and she runs her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching gently at his scalp. Peter’s noisy breathing begins to slow as he starts to drift off to sleep and Gwen hates to rouse him, but the heat that he’s radiating right now is enough to make her uncomfortable. He’s always warm, yes, but this is so much worse.

“Peter, open your eyes, come on now. Let’s get you into bed.” She tries to pull back some, but Peter’s grip only tightens.

“Gwen, no. ‘m fine, really. I jus’ gotta get to the Tower by 3:30.”

“Peter Parker you’ve turned into a living furnace and you couldn’t even pull on your shirt. You can’t breathe with your mask down around your mouth like that, and pretty soon I’m sure you’re going to have a nasty round of the chills as your body tries to fight off whatever bug you’ve seemed to have picked up. Bed. Now.”

She pulls back, successfully this time, and Peter looks up at her with a scowl. She so badly wants to smile down at him because he looks adorable, but she fights the urge and practically heaves him to his feet. It’s not easy, and she thinks she’s pulled a back muscle when she straightens, but at least Peter and all of his super strength is upright—for now at least.

“’m not gettin’ in bed,” he sniffs out, snatching his mask from the desk.

“Peter Parker you get in that bed right now before I call Tony.”

Peter glares, his arms extended right above his head and frozen as he began to pull his mask back on. Gwen glares back and refuses to be the first one to break, and eventually Peter’s gaze falls, as do his arms and mask. Gwen’s hand is already outstretched the moment he’s accepted defeat and he grumpily places it into her hand.

“Thank you,” she tells him, tossing his mask back onto the desk. “Now get in bed so I can take your temperature and figure out what to do with you.”

Begrudgingly, Peter complies and Gwen is sitting on the edge of his bed facing him with her left leg dangling off the side while her right one is underneath her. She begins with his boots, undoing the laces and tossing them to the ground with a dull thud before she shifts her position to tug down the spandex of the bottom half of his suit. He whines when she finally gets them off, and reaches for his pajama pants that are in a heap next to Gwen.

She rolls her eyes, this time Peter can see her to it too, and she grabs the sleep pants, helping him into them.

“Now you stay _right there_ ,” she instructs before moving to get up off the bed. “I’m going to go get the thermometer and some extra blankets.

She’s gone longer than she expects because Peter’s bathroom is a mess and nothing is in a logical place. Eventually she locates the thermometer tossed in the bottom drawer of the vanity where Peter keeps his extra razors and shaving cream. Why it’s not in the medicine cabinet in the first place is beyond her. She gathers a few blankets off the back of the couch and returns to Peter’s room where he’s pushed himself up into somewhat of a seated position, his ear pressed to a small device in his hand.

Gwen’s presence surprises him and he jumps, quickly trying to stash the small device under his pillow. It’s easy to recognize and Gwen realizes that Peter has dug out his old police scanner to try and detect any crime popping up throughout the city. Oh no, she’s not having any of that. She dumps the blankets on the end of his bed and pockets the thermometer before shoving her arm under his pillow. Peter’s wiggling in an attempt to stop her from grabbing the scanner causes it to shift and fall to the floor between his mattress and headboard. Gwen retrieves it quickly and Peter’s left slumped in bed with a nasty look on his face.

“Aw, Gwen, don’t take that too! I need it! What if something happens and New York needs me?” he whines, not that he means to, it’s just how it comes out. Because if Peter’s honest with himself, he feels like absolute shit at the moment and he’s worse than a child when he’s sick.

“New York has the entire police force _and_ the Avengers if they need help. _You_ on the other hand are sick and I’m confiscating this until you’re better.”

“I’m not sick,” he protests through a clogged nose. “Spider-Man doesn’t get sick!”

Gwen is already pulling the cap off the thermometer and shoving it under Peter’s tongue when she responds. “ _Spider-Man_ may not get sick, but Peter Parker does. Now I know, it doesn’t happen often thanks to the whole spider bite, but it does happen and it’s happening right now. So you’re confined to your bed until you no longer have a temperature and can talk without whining.”

It’s obvious that Peter wants to snap back at her, but with the thermometer in his mouth, he really can’t do anything but pull his best annoyed face. The beeping from the thermometer goes off and Gwen pulls it from Peter’s mouth, giving the digital readout a quick glance.

“102.8? Really, Peter? How long have you been putting this off? It’s all of those late night visits out into the city that’s driving your immune system down, you know.”

Peter’s gaze shifts and he picks at invisible fuzz on his blanket and Gwen frowns. “How many days?” she asks, resuming her place on the bed.

“Um, two? But probably closer to four,” he finally admits.

“You haven’t gone to actual work in four days?” she sighs, pressing her fingers to her temples.

“No,” he sniffs, pausing to wipe at his nose with his sleeve, “but when your name is on the building and you have an assistant, you don’t have to show up every day.”

Gwen can’t help but smile and she reaches out to brush Peter’s bangs from his forehead that has developed a slight stickiness to it. “How’s the appetite been?”

“Honestly? Pretty shitty.”

“Let me go get you some crackers.”

Crackers and a glass of water in hand, Gwen returns and places both on Peter’s bedside table. He’s started to drift off when he hears her come back in, so he forces his eyes open. Just by touching his shoulder, Gwen can tell he’s still running a pretty high fever and it’s almost instantaneous that he breaks out into chills. She pulls the blankets up to his chin, but Peter manages to break his hand free and latches onto Gwen’s wrist when she tells him she needs to run to the store.

“But why?” He’s whining again and he knows it, but he hopes that the right combination of whining and puppy dog eyes will convince Gwen to stay. He’s still shivering under the blankets and he’s really kicking himself for not taking a night or two off and letting his body recuperate.

“Because I need to get you some medicine to help break that fever. I know you’re a superhero and whatnot, but even you aren’t immune to dangerously high temperatures. Plus you need electrolytes and all you have in your fridge are energy drinks and Diet Coke. Hardly what you need to rehydrate yourself.” She leans over, presses a kiss to his clammy cheek, and sighs.

“Gweeeen,” he groans, pulling her back to him. “I’m fine, just stay here.”

“I’ll stay once I get back from the store with your medicine.”

Peter turns his nose up at that and burrows his hand back under the blankets. He looks rather adorable with only his head peeking out from the mountain of blankets, though he looks like he’s ready to pass out at any moment. “I hate medicine,” he tells her in a voice that reminds her of her little brother when he would get sick.

“Too bad, you’re going to take it.” Gwen gives him one last kiss on the cheek before getting up and going to his desk drawer. She moves a few pens and paperclips out of her way and Peter looks over at her, brows pulled tight.

“What’re you lookin’ for?” he asks as she pulls open the false bottom in the drawer. She scoops the small hidden devices and shoves them into her pocket. She repeats the same process with the next drawer and Peter falls back into his pillows with a groan.

She examines one of the web-shooters in her hand and grabs his mask from the desk as an extra precaution. “Just covering my bases,” she calls out over her shoulder as she leaves the room. “And don’t forget to eat the crackers!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little brain child started out as a small, one chapter drabble and quickly turned into more than I ever would have realized. It's written for the lovely [ViolaWrites](http://archiveofourown.org/users/violawrites), one of the greatest people I know.
> 
> Happy reading! Xx


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Gwen is done at the pharmacy and store, it’s after 4pm and Peter is sound asleep in his bed, though the blankets have been kicked off and while the crackers haven’t been touched, he’s drank all of the water Gwen brought him.

Careful as to not make much noise that might disturb Peter’s sleeping, Gwen places the bags on the small counter next to the microwave and moves out to the living room where she promptly sits down and empties the contents of her purse onto the coffee table. She sorts out the web-shooters from her own items, occasionally pulling strands of the webbing off of things. One of them must’ve went off when she tossed her phone into her bag when she arrived at the store.

Scooping her things back into her bag, Gwen grabs her phone and dials Tony’s number and raises the phone to her ear. It rings a few times before Tony’s voice answers in a gruff “hello,” as if she might have just interrupted a nap of his own.

“Hey Tony, I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“ _Nah, Gwen. Just woke up about five minutes ago. I’m surprised you’re just now getting back with me._ ”

“Yeah well, Peter’s been a bit of a handful this afternoon.”

Tony snorts and Gwen can hear the slight creak of his mattress in the background as he gets up.

“ _Hmph, doesn’t surprise me. Kid was practically dead on his feet when I met him for lunch this afternoon. That’s why I tried calling you—to let you know that he looked pretty much dead and to try and keep him from the Tower._ ”

“Yeah, he kept saying he needed me to take him, that you guys had some Avengers thing going on.”

“ _Tell Pete not to worry about it,_ ” he says. “ _Only Steve, Clint, and I had to go, so it wasn’t a big deal. How’s he doing anyway?_ ”

Gwen stands and walks over to Peter’s room and pokes her head in the door. He’s still sleeping and breathing through his mouth, but he looks comfortable enough.

“He’s asleep right now. I took his temperature and he has a fever, so I went to the store to get meds and something to drink that’s _not_ an energy drink. I had to confiscate his web-shooters, mask, and police scanner before I left though. I can’t trust that boy for _anything_.”

“ _Sounds like someone I know,_ ” Tony teases and Gwen can’t help but laugh. “ _How many days do you think he’ll be down?_ ”

“I dunno to be honest with you. Three maybe? I’ll know more once his fever breaks. I’m about to wake him up and force meds down his throat to get the ball rolling.”

“ _Okay, Gwen, just keep us posted. Don’t need spider-boy there swinging into a building on accident because he’s sick. Talk to you soon._ ”

Gwen hangs up the phone and grabs the medicine from the bag on the counter and takes it into Peter’s room. She has to move his arm twice so she can sit down and gives his shoulder a shake.

“Peter, wake up. I have your medicine.” She worries at her bottom lip when she notices the fever rash that’s broken out across his arms and chest, but stops once Peter’s eyes are open.

“Mm, wha’?” he asks groggily, and Gwen holds out the medicine cup full of red liquid. She figured it would be easier for him to swallow if his throat was bothering him.

“Ew, this tastes horrible,” he spits, thrusting the plastic cup back in Gwen’s direction. She can only smile and runs a hand over his hair before she gets up to rinse it out.

When she gets back, Peter opens one eye and scoots closer to the wall and gives a single grunt that Gwen takes to mean that he wants her to lie down with him. She knows he’s going to be too hot, so she strips off her shirt, leaving only her tank top and changes into a pair of her shorts that’s in one of the bottom drawers of Peter’s dresser.

As soon as she’s in bed, Peter throws an arm around her and presses his nose to the back of her neck. Gwen can feel his breathing start to slow as he drifts back to sleep. She’s not sure how much longer after him she falls asleep, but the sudden jostle she feels when Peter moves is enough to wake her up and when she looks at him, she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Instinctively she reaches down for the trash can next to Peter’s bed and thrusts it up under his chin just in time for him to empty his stomach into it. The muscles in his back tighten with each heave and Gwen rubs her hand in circles along his back.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs, and when Peter’s finally done throwing up, he hands her back the trash can and collapses backward into the pillows again.

“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs as Gwen makes to get out of bed.

“Feeling any better?”

“Only a lil’ bit,” he tells her honestly.

After cleaning up his mess and replacing the trash bag, Gwen comes back and takes Peter’s temperature. He’s still whining even after she’s done and whines even more when she insists it’s time for more meds and that he needs to drink some of the Gatorade she picked up while she was out.

He only chooses to argue with her twice before her scowl convinces him it’ll be easier to just take the medicine and drink the Gatorade. He only takes a few sips from the bottle before he hands it back to Gwen and all but pulls her back down beside him.

Peter is so disgustingly hot and all Gwen wants is to push him away from her, but she doesn’t and instead allows Peter to pull her closer and rest his chin on the top of her head. It’s harder for her to fall asleep this time, but that’s okay because in the span of only a few hours, Peter has been up and gotten sick three more times.

“Gwen,” Peter croaks while she’s in the kitchen getting him ore medicine. “Gwen, I’m _hot_ ,” he whines, kicking the blankets off his body.

“It’s the fever, Peter. I’m guessing you just have the flu and it’ll be out of your system in just a few days,” she tells him as she carries in more Gatorade and medicine. “Sit up here and take this.”

Peter does as he’s told, though he glares at Gwen the whole time he’s taking the medicine. She hasn’t even been in the kitchen ten seconds when he starts to whine again, complaining about how his back hurts and that the flavor of Gatorade he has is starting to make his mouth taste like metal and dirt.

It’s hard to keep up with Peter when he’s like this because he’s all over the place and full of emotions. Gwen gets it, she really does, but sometimes she thinks he’s being a little _too_ dramatic. Nevertheless, she grabs a chilled bottle of Gatorade out of the fridge and makes sure it’s a different flavor before bringing it back to him.

“Honestly, Peter, for a 22 year old superhero you sure do act like a five year old,” she teases, twisting off the cap of the Gatorade before handing it to him.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” he mumbles. He sniffs again and this time Gwen grabs a tissue from his bedside table and holds it to his nose, her other hand on her hip.

“Blow.”

“Nu-uh, Gwen that’s gross!”

“Peter, just blow your damn nose.”

Peter crosses his arms and shakes his head as he feebly attempts to swat her hand away from his face.

“I swear I’ll drive back to the lab and get one of those little nose syringes they use on babies and bring it back and use it on you. You sound horrible, so blow your nose.”

She never would’ve thought dealing with Peter would be this hard, but he’s quickly surprising her. After another showdown between the two, Peter finally relents and blows his nose, though he makes sure to complain—and complain loudly—for the next two minutes about how blowing his nose made his head hurt even worse and that it bothered his back aches too. For what feels like the thousandth time that day, Gwen rolls her eyes at him and climbs back into bed.

He’s still hot, though she thinks his fever is trying to break because he’s not quite radiating as much heat as he was earlier. She has to scratch his head to get him to fall back to sleep this time, and even after he does, he’s pretty restless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've been enjoying this so far! 
> 
> Happy reading! Xx


	3. Chapter 3

It’s weird, as sick as Peter seemed to be yesterday, he’s doing much better today. His fever broke sometime in the middle of the night and didn’t come back and his super appetite has made its reappearance. The color is back in his cheeks and he’s up, showered, and dressed before Gwen even hears her first alarm.

She’s still a little groggy when she makes her way to the kitchen, but Peter is there, cup of coffee in hand, and offers it to Gwen with a smile and a kiss to her cheek.

“Morning, princess,” he teases, dropping two sugar cubes into Gwen’s coffee as she takes it from him. “Sleep well?”

“Hm, you could say that, I guess,” she grumbles, sliding into a seat at the table. “ _Someone_ kept tossing and turning and refused to let go of me while they slept.”

Peter’s brows shoot up to his hair and he covers his chest with his hand, a dramatic look on his face. “Are you insinuating that _I_ kept you from having a good night’s sleep?”

“Ding ding ding,” she mumbles into her cup of coffee.

Peter’s face softens and walks up behind Gwen, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re too good to me,” he mumbles into her hair as Gwen grunts in response, her mouth still on her coffee cup.

“You going to the office this morning?” she finally asks.

“Yeah, but only for the morning. I’m going to take the train into town and pick up my car. I have a few meetings I can’t miss, but once those are over, I’ll be going to the Tower. S.H.I.E.L.D has some new recruits coming in today and Steve and I said we’d start their training. I won’t be able to do lunch today, but how about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds great; I planned to work through lunch anyway.”

Gwen scoots back in her chair just enough to stand and turns so she can press a kiss to Peter’s lips. He smiles when she does and instinctively wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“I’ve really got to get going and you need to get ready for work,” he tells her, though his lips keep finding their way to her jaw and neck.

“I know but you’re not letting either of us do that.” Pressing her hands against his chest, she pushes back a little and Peter stumbles, but she knows he could’ve easily stopped her from pulling away. Instead, he gives her a goofy smile and nudges her chair in with his hip.

“I’ll see you for dinner then, Gwen. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she tells him. “Be safe today, okay?”

“Always am!” he calls out as he swipes an apple from the fruit bowl before making his way to the front door.

 Gwen sighs at his back as he leaves because as much as she wishes that was true, she knows he’s not.

\--

 “Parker!” Steve calls out the moment Peter steps into the office of the S.H.I.E.L.D training facility. “Good to see you, man!”

 “Hey, Captain. Good to see you too.”

Peter is already shrugging out of his suit jacket and loosening his tie when Fury raps on the door frame twice with his knuckles.

“Parker, Rodgers,” he says, stepping in around Peter as he shrugs out of his button up, the top half of his suit already on. “These are the folders for the four new recruits we have joining us today. From what I’ve read, you both better be wary of this McNichols fellow.”

Steve raises a brow at Fury and accepts the folders, immediately opening the folder marked in black letters with the name **McNichols**. His eyes scan over the first few paragraphs written while Peter finishes folding his clothes and places them in his duffle bag.

“Looks like he’s had some trouble at other training facilities in the past,” Steve murmurs to no one in particular. He flips a few more pages in the folder and his eyes go wide.

“Fury! This says he has ties to Hydra! What’re you thinking?!”

“It’s all speculative, Cap. Besides, I give this guy two, three days tops before we kick him out. Gotta keep the higher-ups happy, Steve. You know how that is. They want us to try and put him through S.H.I.E.L.D training, so that’s what we’re gonna do. Parker,” he says turning toward Peter. “I heard from Stark that you were under the weather yesterday. You feeling up to it today?”

Peter resists rolling his eyes. Of course Gwen would call Tony who would pass the message along to Fury. He squares his shoulders, tugs his mask down over his face and exhales audibly. “Stomach bug, that’s all. I’m up and ready to go. Now come on, I don’t have time to be here all day. I have a dinner date with a very lovely blonde tonight.”

\--

Gwen is immersed in her work when her phone goes off. She jumps a little when it goes off because she’d forgotten to turn it back to silent, so the ringtone is loud and echoing off the walls in the almost empty lab. It’s not Peter’s ringtone, but one reserved for one of the other Avengers, so she knows she should probably take it.

Steve’s name and face appear on the screen and seeing that does something to her insides and it’s nothing good. Steve rarely calls her for anything unless it’s important and she knows he was spending the day with Peter training potential new S.H.I.E.L.D recruits. She swallows, presses the green accept button on her phone, and brings it to her ear.

“Captain Rogers?” she asks, her voice much quieter than she had expected.

“ _Gwen, please, we’ve talked about this—call me Steve._ ”

“Right, right. Steve. Steve. Is everything okay?”

She can hear him sigh on the other end and pull the phone away as he mutters something. “ _Oh, sorry Gwen. I didn’t mean to ignore you. There’s… there’s been a little accident at HQ today. It’s Peter. I think he’s going to be fine, but you should probably get down to the Tower. They’re transporting him to the Med Floor here at the Tower and Bruce is going to take a look at him once he’s arrived._ ”

Gwen can feel her throat restrict at Steve’s words and it suddenly feels like someone has her heart twisted in a vice. Every horrible thing that could possibly happen to Peter flashes in seconds before her eyes and it takes her a moment to realize she’s practically shouting at Steve on the phone. She looks down, embarrassed, though no one is in the lab with her, and she consciously lowers her voice.

“I’m sorry… I just… Is he okay? What _happened_?”

“ _Well, we’re not entirely sure_ ,” Steve admits and Gwen swears she can hear the guilt in his voice. “ _One minute we’re training with the recruits—Peter was climbing one of the walls and was talking to the recruits as he did so but then he…he just stopped and then he fell._ ”

Gwen’s vision goes blurry and she has to grab onto the nearest lab table to ease herself down into a seat. She has so many questions to ask, but only one comes out.

“Is he awake?”

Steve sighs again and Gwen can hear him shifting in whatever seat he’s in. “ _That’s the thing, Gwen. He’s still unconscious._ ”


End file.
